Longing to Know
by dragon dressage
Summary: Bradin wants a car, so he starts a second job. But this job has some unexpected pros and cons. Will Harley learn to trust him before it's too late? Rating for upcoming adult situations and some course language. Please Read & Review. Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is an idea I've been playing around with for a while now, but I finally got around to posting it. _Your Beautiful Soul_ is not finished yet (as of October 27, 2004), but there will be at least two more chapters to make an even 20. I'm working on chapter 19 right now, but I'm still having difficulties with how I want to end it. I'm sorry, but I don't know how soon I will be able to update either of these. Yep, so, Please R&R to let me know what you think about this one…thanks! I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Summerland, nor do I own any related characters or places. The characters you don't know are most likely original characters, therefore they are mine. I also own the plot.

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Longing to Know

Chapter 1

"Rise and shine, sleepy head!"

Bradin groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, burying his head under his pillow.

"Get up!" Johnny insisted, pulling the covers off Bradin, exposing him to the cool morning air of the house.

"Fine," Bradin grumbled. "I'm up—I'm up." After pulling on some clothes, he stumbled down the stairs to the main floor, eyes still half-closed and blurry.

"Breakfast?" Johnny asked from the kitchen.

Bradin sat down at the kitchen island and stared down at the plate that was set in front of him. He picked up a fork and prodded at the sausages that Johnny had managed to—well, do something with—in the microwave. "What time is it?" Bradin yawned unhappily, pushing the grayish-brown cylindrical so-called 'sausages' away untouched.

"5:37."

"In the morning?" Bradin's eyes widened fully. "Since when was _that_ part of the agreement?"

"You were the one who wanted to earn money for a car," Johnny finished down his breakfast with a swig of orange juice straight from the container. "And speaking of cars—time to load up if you want to be there before six."

"And why would I want to be there before six?" Bradin glared at his housemate.

"Because that's when your job starts." Johnny gave him a you-didn't-know-that-already look.

Piling slowly into Johnny's black Cadillac Escalade, Bradin pondered his new job. He had no idea, as of yet, what exactly it was, other than Johnny had said he'd be working for a client of the real-estate agency and that he'd be out in the fresh air. When Bradin had first expressed interest in a second job to earn money for a car, he had naturally thought something like life-guarding at one of the local pools or picking trash up off school grounds like Callie had done a few weeks earlier.

The thought of Callie saddened him. She had left two days previously for the Bahamas on a last vacation of the summer and she wouldn't be back until the day before school started. He could see her in her favorite white bikini on the pristine sands of whatever private beach it was, surfing in the clear blue waters, or maybe just sunbathing on a towel. Either way, he missed her like crazy. He and Callie had just become a couple a week or two before, and they had spent almost every waking minute together before she left. She'd promised to email when she got a chance, but so far, he'd only gotten one that simply said:

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Hi Bradin! We're here! My dad got stopped going through security in Dallas, but it was just a false alarm. Everything else was fine. Going to the beach now with my cousins and their friends who own the beach house. Love you! Callie

"Here we are," Johnny said, cutting into Bradin's thoughts. "Meyer Stables."

"A barn?" Bradin asked wearily.

"Yeah. You said you wanted a decent-paying job, and this one opened up."

"I didn't mean shoveling horse sh—" he was cut off as an older man of about 60, wearing a worn pair of jeans, a green T-shirt, and a straw cowboy hat stepped up to the SUV.

"Jerry, how's it going?" Johnny asked the man, getting out of the car and shaking his hand.

"Can't complain." The old man smiled, then nodded toward Bradin. "This the new one?"

"Yeah." Johnny motioned for Bradin to come around the car. "This is Bradin Westerly, Ava's nephew. Bradin, this is Jeremiah Mably."

"I answer to Jerry too," the old man laughed, shaking Bradin's hand warmly. "Nice to meet you Bradin."

"Oh, look at the time," Johnny glanced down at his watch. "I've gotta get to the office. Don't be afraid to work him hard, Jerry."

"No problem, got the bullwhip all primed and ready," Jerry grinned as Johnny started his car. He held up his hand as the vehicle rolled away and turned onto the street. "Come on, let's get you set up." Jerry headed for the barn. "That's Harley over there on the tractor. She works here, too. 'Bout your age, I guess."

Bradin looked in the direction Jerry was pointing. A slim figure bounced along on the seat of a green and yellow John Deere tractor—towing a circular plowing device—as it circled inside the fenced outdoor arena. He turned quickly to follow Jerry into the cool air of the barn. Quick work was made of getting him set up with a gray Rubbermaid manure cart, a pitchfork rake, and a shovel; and he was put to work almost immediately.

About twenty minutes later, Bradin thought he might actually have gotten the hang of it: rake the wet shavings and manure to the middle, shovel it out into the cart, rake the leftover shavings out of the corners, haul the dirty out to the compost pile, load clean shavings into the cart, empty the new shavings into the stall, and spread them around. It was that simple.

"Who's the new guy?" a girl's voice echoed down the aisle.

"Bradin Westerly," Jerry informed her. "Johnny Durant's housemate's nephew."

Bradin set his shovel against the side of the stall and pushed his cart out toward the entrance.

"A surfer?"

Bradin saw the voice belonged to the girl named Harley.

"Yup."

"You hired a surfer?"

"He's your punk, Har," Jerry grinned.

"Funny," she glowered at him. "Very, very funny. Hold on, I've got a cramp from not laughing."

Bradin wheeled the manure cart across the yard, dumped it on the compost pile and filled the cart up with clean shavings. Entering the barn again, the aisle was deserted. He emptied the shavings in the stall and slowly spread them around.

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Callie. The thought of her overwhelmed him momentarily. He wondered what she was doing now. He longed to hear her cheerful voice again, even if it was on the phone.

"No slacking on the job, surfer boy."

Bradin's head snapped up, and he realized he'd been leaning on his rake, daydreaming of Callie. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"You don't have all day—they expect us to be done by 11:30," she said, her voice completely void of feeling.

Bradin didn't respond, but finished laying the shavings quickly and moved on to the next stall. He paused, discreetly taking in the view of Harley through a small space in the wall. Standing at an open door a few stalls down, she stroked the nose of a cream-colored horse. She wore a maroon tank top tucked into faded, dirty, blue jeans and a black hand-tooled leather belt encircled her waist, held together in front with a mid-sized belt buckle. The buckle was an engraved silver background, encircled by a gold-plated rope; three gold horse-heads stood out from the silver and a small gold strip stretched across the bottom. Her raven black hair was pulled back in a loose French braid that hung down to a few inches above her belt, and her skin was a deep bronze. Bradin hurriedly turned back to his work as she moved away from the stall.

Four hours later, Bradin pushed the cart back into the empty stall they were stored in and propped his tools against the wall. Looking down at his hands, he winced. He could feel the blisters starting to form between his thumbs and forefingers, a tingling sensation that he'd felt before on numerous occasions.

"Blisters?"

He raised his eyes to meet Harley's and was surprised by their deep ebony darkness. "Uh, yeah. Sorta."

"I think we've got some moleskin in the office." Harley turned and walked down the aisle, and Bradin followed, watching her easy gait as she moved before him. She opened the door under the sign stating _Meyer Stables_ _Office_ and waited for him to step through before closing the door behind them.

She motioned for him to take a seat behind the oak desk and he did, watching her rummage through the First-Aid kit. Pulling out a small yellow and blue box, she smiled triumphantly and held it up. "You need a pair of good gloves," Harley said as she expertly cut small strips of moleskin and stuck it where he said he felt the blisters coming in.

"Here." She stood, tossed a pair of deerskin gloves into his lap, put the box back in the kit, and then turned to exit.

"Where you going?" he asked.

"Well, it's almost eleven and Jenny Almes' personal nanny will be bringing her for her riding lesson soon. They pay me to groom and saddle her horse."

"I used to live in Kansas." He then added, "I grew up around horses." It wasn't a complete lie—there were horses back in Kansas, and he had met some on a few occasions. But he didn't understand why he'd lied about it. Why did he want to please her so badly? She wasn't Callie, and she was incredibly different from any of the girls he'd dated—even back in Kansas. He'd never gone for the 'cowgirl' type. Though there had been several at his old school, he'd never been attracted to them, and he'd even had friends who made fun of the redneck types.

"Oh, good," Harley smiled. "That means I can light out early, and you can take care of the horse. All the tack and grooming stuff is down by the cross-ties."

Bradin watched her walk away. Moving down to the cross-ties, he surveyed the tack. What kind of mess had he gotten himself into? He picked up a brush—at least he knew how to do that—and moved to stand next to the short gray pony and started to work slowly. A few minutes later, he stopped to contemplate the tack again.

"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" Harley asked, stepping around the corner.

"No." Then realizing a way to redeem himself, he said, "My sister leased a horse for a few years and I had to take care of it for two weeks when she was away at camp, but I only tacked it up in the Western stuff."

"Ah," she smiled. "But you still have no idea what you're doing."

Bradin sighed. "No. What gave it away?"

"The white shoes."

He looked down. His Nike Airs had been white that morning. Now they had a green tinge and were covered in dust.

"Well, first, you'd put on the saddle pad." Harley flipped the white pad over the pony's back, then carefully set the small brown English saddle on top of it, explaining what to do with each step. Then, she slid the martingale around the pony's neck and attached it to the girth. Next came the bridle, and after removing the halter, she easily slid the snaffle bit between his teeth and pulled the headstall over his ears. She then led the pony out to the arena.

"Hi Harley!" a little redheaded girl in perfect English garb greeted her as she led the pony to the mounting block. She gave the pony a pat on the nose, "Hi Beauty!"

"How's it goin' Jenny?" Harley asked, pulling the reins over the pony's ears.

"Good."

"Have fun," Harley smiled, sending them off with the riding instructor. Then, to Bradin, "I am out of here. Later Surfer Boy."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. I've been bogged down with school and other areas of my life. This chapter is rather short, but the other two are long. Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Summerland, nor do I own any related characters or places.

_Longing to Know_

Chapter 2

"Something wrong, Honey?" Ava Gregory asked, sitting down next to Bradin on the sofa.

"No."

"You don't sound too confident." She looked at him sadly. "Missing Callie?"

"Yeah."

Ava frowned slightly. "So, how's your new job?"

"Fine."

"Have any plans for tonight?" she tried again.

"There's a party I was thinking of going to."

"Oh, that sounds fun," she smiled.

Bradin shrugged and stood. "I'm gonna go surf for a while."

"Oh, ok. Have fun and be careful."

"Yeah, sure."

Stepping out to the patio, he grabbed his surfboard and a towel, and started off for the beach. The sand sifting through his flip-flops was warm on his feet as he walked down to the water. He set his T-shirt, towel, and flip-flops on a nearby rock and took to the water, sliding out into the cool, calming waves.

Wiping out of his tenth try, Bradin gave up; his soul wasn't in the waves. He plopped down on his towel and gazed across the sparkling ocean.

_I wonder what Callie's doing,_ he thought absently. Why was it that he couldn't live his life now? Simon O'Keefe, his aunt's love interest, was out of town, but Aunt Ava wasn't depressed. In fact, she was the same as always, maybe a little stressed because of her clothing line doing something somewhere, but her normal cheerful self. Thinking back to his conversation with her earlier, his mind drifted to his job. Three days of working at Meyer Stables, and he was starting to make friends with Harley. She was quiet and withdrawn most of the time, seeming to find friendship only in the various animals that inhabited the area. But Bradin felt there was something hiding beneath her tough façade. There was a longing deep down inside of her—but a longing for what? He had no idea.

Bradin sighed. Life could be so confusing at times. Why had his parents died? Why had his parents chosen for Nikki, Derrick, and him to move to Playa Linda, California to live with Aunt Ava? Why had he ever met Sarah, and why had he done so many stupid things with her? Why had he never noticed Callie before that day at Ricochet?

"Penny for your thoughts."

Pulled back to reality, Bradin looked up to see his younger sister. "Oh, hey, Nikki, what's up?"

"Nothing. I was just on my way to meet Amber at the movies," she said. "Are you okay? You've been all sulky lately."

Bradin half-smiled at her. "Do you ever wonder why stuff happens?"

"What kind of stuff?" she asked. He made no response, and she quietly added, "Like Mom and Dad stuff?"

He hesitated. "Well…yeah, and just like stuff in general. I mean, like Cameron and Amber."

Nikki raised a questioning eyebrow. "Yeah, I wonder about stuff all the time. But don't you mean Callie and Sarah?"

"Forget it."

"Whatever will be, will be," she said, hugging him.

With that, she walked away down the beach. Bradin watched after her until she was out of sight before standing and grabbing his board. He ran for the water and slid in, feeling slightly better than he had earlier.

Pushing himself up, Bradin started his first successful ride of the day. The wave died, and he whooped at the sky and the lazy gulls flying overhead. He paddled out again, and as the next wave swelled under the surfboard, he flipped a 180. Shaking his fist triumphantly in the air, Bradin could almost hear Callie cheering for him from the shoreline. A slow smile spread across his face.

Bradin surfed for another hour and a half before he returned to the beach. The good, old happy feeling was back inside of him, and he felt at ease as he made his way to the house.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Summerland, nor do I own any related characters or places.

_Longing to Know_

Chapter 3

Pulling up to the house, Bradin parked the borrowed Cadillac Escalade on the curb. This was supposed to be the best party of the summer, but he was doubtful. Callie was off on vacation, and he was missing her like crazy, even though she'd not been gone even a whole five days. He walked toward the house, mentally telling himself that he would stay for an hour or so to make an appearance, but then he'd go home. Curfew was midnight, but he expected to be back long before that.

As he stepped inside the house, a few people he knew from the surf shop said 'hi,' and two giggly girls walked past glancing starry-eyed in his direction. Walking into the living room, with its big ceiling-to-floor windows facing the reflectively colorful ocean, he glanced around. A DJ table was set up in the far corner, and the giant speakers on either side of it blasted out a loud Black Eyed Peas song. Drinks and food were in the opposite corner, and he picked his way toward them.

A familiar-looking girl following a light brunette and a blue-streaked blonde was fighting her way from the food tables. Her black hair fell loosely down to her elbows and her trim figure was clothed in a knee-length khaki skirt and a turquoise top, covered by a red zip-up hoodie-type sweatshirt that hugged her curves attractively.

"Harley?" Bradin questioned as she stepped past, recognition finally setting in.

"Oh, hey," she half-smiled at him before telling the two girls she'd been with that she'd catch up.

"What are you doing here?" he shouted over the booming beat.

"Karen Goldstone invited me." Harley took a sip from the blue plastic cup in her hand.

"You look, uh…" Bradin paused, presently unsure of his words.

"Yeah, it's amazing what a shower and a whole load of makeup can do, right?" she asked coldly. "I bet you didn't know I even owned anything put a pair of dirty jeans."

"No, I didn't mean anythi—"

"Forget it." Harley turned away.

"I just meant that you look nice…" his voice trailed off.

"Well, thank you." She managed a smile over her shoulder, then after a pause, she added, "Go ahead and say it, I know you want to."

"Say what?"

" 'You look nice'—for a change."

Her words bit into him as she walked away, leaving him standing alone and confused. Where was this hatred coming from? He'd thought they were friends now—well, maybe not friends, but at least a little better than blood-enemies. Across the room, she dropped down onto a green couch with her two friends from earlier. She looked bored—even annoyed—as the girls on either side of her batted their eyelashes and smiled at a passing guy.

A surfer called Bucket, whom Bradin knew from the surf shop, hooked his arm, pulling him toward the kitchen. "There's this totally hot girl who's asking about you. I think you could really score, Kansas."

The 'totally hot girl' that Bucket had referred to was a tall, slim, cheerleader-type with a short ponytail of bleached-blond hair flipping crazily on the nape of her neck as she laughed. When Bradin stepped up, she turned toward him with a huge smile. Her teeth were perfect, but a few shades too white to look natural, and her face was painted almost to the point that reminded Bradin of seeing stage actors up close. The sight of her almost made him sick.

"Hi Bradin," she said in a sugary-sweet voice. "I'm Paula, but everyone calls me Skittles."

"Hi." He tried a smile, but he was sure it didn't come out quite right. His mind was still focused on Harley, despite his attempts to push her out.

"I heard you tried out for the PLH surf team. I bet you're really good, maybe we could surf together, and you could give me some pointers."

"Uh, yeah, I made sub." Bradin wanted to leave. He was tired of people setting him up with these stupid beach chicks. They could be so dumb at times. Of course they were hardly ever hard on the eyes with their skimpy bikinis and tan-oiled bodies. Erika was special case though; she was smart, funny, and pretty: everything a guy could want—everything Jay had ever dreamed of. And Callie, oh, Callie! Trying to think up a good excuse, he finally said, "Well, actually, I got a job so I don't really have that much time to surf right now."

"Oh," she said, pouting slightly in disappointment.

Seeing the disbelief in Bucket's eyes, Bradin quickly added, "But Bucket here's really good, and I'm sure he'd be happy to show you some stuff."

"Bucket?" she questioned, then seemed to see the tall light-blonde surfer behind Bradin and shimmied up to him with a smile. "Hi Bucket, I'm Skittles. Bucket—that's kinda a funny name," she laughed flirtatiously. "How'd you get it?"

Bradin embraced the chance to get away when it opened. Glancing back, he could see his friend was on Cloud 9—standing there, talking to 'Skittles' about how he'd received his nickname. As far as Bradin was concerned, those two would make a pretty good pairing; between the two of them, they might have enough brainpower to figure out how to get the wrapper off a tootsie pop. Even better yet, he could probably count on seeing them trying to figure out how many licks to the center of a tootsie pop. Bradin laughed at himself.

Despite his attempts to block Harley from his thoughts, he found her occupying every tiny corner of his head. From his place by the enormous bowl of caramel corn, he watched her: first on the couch, then as she moved with her friends to the DJ table to pick out music. She made no attempt to help choose a song; instead, she stood off to the side, glancing passively around the room every-so-often. He wondered if she was searching the crowd for him, but then, why would she? A large crowd swarmed around the table, and Bradin's view was blocked for several minutes. When they finally moved away, his eyes scanned the room for Harley. She had seemingly disappeared. Catching sight of her heading for the door, he made his move, pushing through two groups of teens and threading around countless others.

"Hey, where you going?" Bradin caught her arm gently.

"Home." At his silence, she added, "I've got a headache, so I'm going home."

"Can I give you a ride?" he offered.

"No, I…" she paused as something behind her in the crowded room caught her eye. Bradin followed her gaze and saw a well-muscled guy of about 17 or 18 stomping toward them angrily. He'd seen the guy one time before, and Bucket had pointed him out as CJ Goldstone—aka—Charles Nicholas Goldstone, Junior, II. Glancing back to Harley, he noticed she had her eyes closed and was mumbling something under her breath.

"Where do you think you're going?" CJ demanded.

Before she could answer, Bradin spoke up. "I'm taking her home."

"Really? Well I don't think so, and you can let go of my girlfriend, 'cause she's not goin' nowhere with you," he stated in Bradin's face.

Bradin released her arm, surprised by the word 'girlfriend' and intimidated by the sheer bulk of the guy.

As CJ pulled on her wrist, Harley twisted out of his grasp. "I've got work to do tomorrow. I'm going home." He grabbed her arm, and she said something in a tone too quiet for Bradin to hear.

Whatever she said seemed to work, because CJ shook his head, threw a hateful glare at Bradin, and stalked off, throwing his arm around the nearest girl. Harley stepped toward the door.

"Offer still stands," Bradin spoke up as she passed.

"Thanks, I'll take it." She smiled at him and followed him out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Summerland, nor do I own any related characters or places.

_Longing to Know_

Chapter 4

They drove silently across town, and Bradin had just stopped the car at the stables when he spoke up. "Is he really your boyfriend?"

Harley sighed and looked down at her hands, shifting uncomfortably. "Yeah."

"I mean, he had that blonde bimbo on his arm all night, and he didn't once acknowledge you were there...until you wanted to leave."

"It's the way it is," she said glancing over at him. "It's no big deal."

"Why don't you dump him?" Bradin questioned.

"I…can't."

"Why can't you?" he pressed.

"Because." Her voice quavered.

"Why?"

There was a lengthy pause before she turned to face him, brushing away a stray tear that had slipped down her cheek. "Do you ever wonder how much it costs to keep a horse here?" She gestured towards the large freshly painted red building. "With that great arena, the irrigated pastures, and the air-conditioned barns—it's a lot of money. My parents don't make that much, and I certainly can't get a job that could allow me to afford keeping Flint here. Yeah, sure, I earn his keep by working here during the summer, but I don't have that much time when school starts. CJ and I have an agreement: I act as his girlfriend in trade to keep my horse here. Do you understand?"

"No, Harley, I don't. I don't understand why you'd put yourself through _that_ just for a horse."

Harley hurriedly got out of the Escalade. "He's not just a horse, Bradin, but I can't expect you to understand anything like that." She slammed the car door and ran for the barn, slipping in through the narrow crack in the sliding door. The sweet scent of grass hay and horse washed over her, comforting her. Running into the tack room, she pulled out a pair of jeans and some boots from her locker and quickly changed in the half-light before turning toward Flint's stall.

"Hey baby boy," she crooned, pushing open the sliding door. "I missed you." In response, the Mustang nickered softly and moved next to her, nuzzling her cheek. "Yeah, I know, horsewomen don't wear makeup."

The distant sound of a car roaring to life signaled to her that Bradin was leaving. She listened until the sound faded from hearing before slipping the halter over Flint's head, and grabbing her carrot stick, saying, "Let's go play outside."

She led the horse from his stall and they walked to the front of the barn where Harley forced the noisy door to slide open, exposing girl and horse to the fresh night air. The pair quickly made their way across the yard and into the large outdoor arena. Untying the blue rope halter, she set the young palomino loose and hung the halter and lead rope on the gate. Carrot stick in hand, she walked to the center of the arena. Motioning for Flint to go to the right, she smiled as he complied willingly at an even trot.

"Good boy," she said happily. The horse's head tilted toward her, listening to her voice. Harley raised her right arm straight out and pointed as she held out the carrot stick in the other; Flint cantered. After two laps, she bent over, focusing on his hindquarters. As he turned, she stood up and trotted backwards gesturing for him to follow at the same gait. One step, two steps; then she pointed with her left arm and Flint cantered off to the left.

In the light of the full moon, the palomino's slick golden coat gleamed brightly as he changed direction at his partner's cues. Harley relaxed her position and Flint slowed to a trot, then to a walk. She bent over to disengage the hindquarters, then straightened and drew him in to her. Rewarding him with long smooth strokes across his neck, she grinned as he turned his head to her and stared at her with his deep brown eyes.

"I love you too, Flint," she kissed his velvet nose. "Can you do a Trigger _bow_?"

Flint stretched his left foot forward, then leaned back, resting his right knee on the ground and bowing his head to the dirt. Harley slipped onto his back and gave him the cue to rise. He obeyed, straightening up slowly, keeping himself balanced.

"Good boy." She scratched his neck. Breathing her life up started him up and he walked to the rail of the arena. Harley picked up a trot in her body, and Flint followed suit. They trotted gracefully around the arena, then, at cues from her legs, the small palomino turned agilely in the movements of figure eights and serpentines. As they came down the centerline, she breathed out, letting the life out of her body, and Flint stopped. She leaned down to hug his neck and lay there, smelling the warmth and light sweat of the horse's body, allowing herself to close her eyes. Underneath her, Flint shifted his weight and tensed, swiveling his ears toward the gate. Harley pushed herself back to a sitting position and squinted in the half-light, trying to make out what stood in the shadows just beyond the gate.

"I have a gun," she said loudly, not sure if it was more for her benefit than a threat. She knew it was a lie and that whoever or whatever lurked in the shadows could probably tell she didn't have one. Harley raised her voice again, doing her best to knock the fear away, "I know how to defend myself."

"It's just me," –the voice floated through the night air, and the figure stepped up to the gate— "Bradin."

Breathing a silent sigh of relief, she directed Flint to the gate. "You could have gotten yourself killed."

"So could you," he warned her.

"Why are you here anyway?" she asked coolly, changing the subject. She'd been warned time and time again to not ride at night by herself. "I thought you left."

"I did—then I came back to apologize."

Flint snorted as if amused by the statement. Harley looked down at Bradin, waiting.

"Look—I'm sorry. I didn't understand, and I still don't really, but it wasn't my place to tell you what to do, so please accept my apology. And I just wanted you to know that 'surfer boy' won't be bothering you any more. I'm quitting tomorrow." Bradin turned and started walking across the yard.

"You're quitting?" The words managed to creep out of Harley's mouth and Bradin stopped. She slid off Flint's back and climbed over the fence. "Why are you quitting? I thought you were going to work until school started." Harley closed her mouth hurriedly. Why was she pursuing him? The whole time she'd known him, she'd wanted to be rid of him, yet at this moment, she couldn't bare the thought of not seeing him.

He shrugged.

"You don't have to quit—but you can do whatever you want." She turned back to Flint and busied herself with putting his halter on.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long in updating. I've been stuck in a rut of writer's block for a while now. Thank you to my reviewers, JmacNCheese, alfabiteater, and HottWriter017! Your kind words are much appreciated. I hope y'all enjoy this next chapter! Sorry, it's short…Happy reading….

Disclaimer: I do not own Summerland, nor do I own any related characters or places.

_Longing to Know_

Chapter 5

As Bradin silently watched Harley halter the horse, something inside of him snapped, and he reached out and grabbed her arm. As she spun toward him, a stinging slap across the face stunned him momentarily, and he dropped her arm.

"How dare you," Harley spat at him, burning hatred leaping from her ebony eyes.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"If you ever touch me like that again, you'll look up at me from the ground." She flung the gate open in his face and led the horse past him.

He stood next to the gate until the pain faded before turning and picking his way across the dark parking lot to follow her. Stepping into the cool black of the barn, Bradin paused. He heard nothing.

"Harley?" he called softly, his voice cracking lightly with worry. From down the aisle, he heard faint whispering, and he started toward it. Peering into a dimly lit stall, Bradin heard her speaking to a horse, but it was not loud enough to make out. "Harley."

"Shh," she hissed sharply, swinging the Coleman lamp in his direction. "Westerly, either get in and shut up or make yourself scarce."

Bradin clamped his mouth shut and quietly entered the doublewide stall. Adjusting to the dim surroundings, his eyes caught sight of the reddish-brown filly that cowered in a corner. It was the horse that had been dropped off just that morning: an abuse and neglect case.

He risked a glance at Harley, but she was focused on the animal. Taking the chance to discreetly study her closely, Bradin's eyes washed over her smooth light bronze skin. As if she felt his gaze, a slight ripple ran through the muscles of her jaw, yet she did not turn. Instead, she slowly moved toward the horse, hand extended, palm down with her fingers pressed together and curved downward.

Again, Harley began speaking softly, but Bradin could not understand the words. Her voice was light and soothing, and the horse responded positively, stepping forward and reaching out her nose to touch Harley's offered hand. The monologue continued as Harley ran her hands along the horse's body.

"Bradin."

He barely heard his name, but in the silence that surrounded them, he jumped as if she had shouted. As he stepped forward, Harley motioned for him to approach as she had, with his hand out. The horse hesitated momentarily before gently touching his hand with her velvet muzzle. Bradin reached out to touch the filly's shoulder, but she moved away hurriedly, a white rim showing in the corner of her eye.

"Slow. Don't trap her." The words oozed from Harley's lips easily. "Let her come back to you."

A few moments later, the filly cautiously moved toward him and reached her muzzle out again.

"Touch her with your heart," Harley said. She took Bradin's hand under her own and guided it over the horse's quivering neck and shoulder. The filly sighed deeply and lowered her head.

"Feel that?" Harley asked. "She relaxed."

Bradin nodded. The filly's once tense muscles were smooth and calm beneath his touch.

Harley spoke, but the words were nearly inaudible. The tone dynamic increased, and Bradin once again heard the confusing volley of sounds.

"Those words; what are you saying?" he inquired when she stopped.

"Friend, my horse, flies like a bird as it runs. The four winds are blowing; some horses are coming. Daybreak appears when a horse neighs," she recited, never looking away from the filly's large deep brown eye. "It's a Sioux song of the horse."

The two humans stood motionless and silent, only presently aware of the small distance between them. A stray strand of black hair slipped across Harley's face, but before she could tuck it behind her ear, Bradin brought his free hand up to gently push it back into place. In the same movement, he slid his hand around her neck to caress her jaw line with his thumb.

Inching toward her, Bradin tested his limits. As if in slow motion, his lips met hers in a soft, sweet kiss. He slowly began leaning Harley back against the wood paneling of the stall, but as she came up against it, she rebelled, killing the moment Bradin had so carefully created. Gazing into her eyes, a wild terror flared within their depths, like that of the filly's when he had pushed too fast. She dropped her eyes.

"I'm going home," Harley said, refusing to look up at him.

"Let me drive you," Bradin offered.

"I'll walk." She pushed away from him and opened the sliding stall door.

"It's dark."

"I'll walk," she repeated firmly, the lock clanking into place as if finalizing her words.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Wow, it's been a while since the muse has struck me! But it's back for right now. I won't make any promises about a certain number of chapters, but I will try to do a bunch of writing as long as the muses cooperate, lol. Special thanks to kaitlin, Liberating Penguins, JmacNCheese, y0urs x truly, and alli88! Your reviews are much appreciated. Ok, so this is a longer chapter and I hope y'all will enjoy it…real drama coming soon, I promise, lol!

Disclaimer: I should hope you have it memorized by now.

_Longing to Know_

Chapter 6

_1, 2, 3, hup. 1, 2…_ Harley's lithe body shifted forward in the saddle again as the muscular Thoroughbred sprung over the second four-foot jump effortlessly. She straightened up and guided him in a gentle curve. _Turn, turn, turn. 1, 2, 3, 4…_ The powerful hindquarters gathered under her as the horse thrust himself in the air.

"He's dropping his left shoulder on the turns! Pick it up!" The comment was shouted from a thin, older man wearing tan breeches and shiny black dress boots. From the middle of the arena, Charles Shaw peered at horse and rider scrutinizingly from under his black derby. "Circle!"

Harley averted her eyes from the upcoming jump and raising her left rein slightly, directed the horse in a 20-meter circle. Acting out of instinct, she lifted her left rein imperceptibly higher and shifted her weight to the outside when she felt the distinct drop in the gait.

"Good." Shaw called out, pleased with her tactful correction. "Give him some rein and take him over the cavaletties."

Allowing the animal to stretch his neck, Harley cantered a wide arch before pointing him at the row of small jumps, placed just far enough apart for the horse to land and push off between each.

"Bring him into your hands, softly now," Shaw told her as she passed. "Rhythm…cavaletties are for rhythm! Feel his motion! Don't just sit there, follow him! This is a two-player sport." –a pause– "Take him around again."

Harley swore quietly as she slipped behind the horse's motion again. _Concentrate, Harley, concentrate!_ _Just concentrate on the horse,_ she yelled at herself, doing her best to catch up to the feel of the gait. Heading down the cavaletties for the second time, Harley managed to pull herself together.

"Better," he commented, then pointed to the standards on the other side of the arena. "Take him over the combination again."

Harley's head whirled. _FOCUS!_ Aiming the horse at the first jump, she shifted into two-point and let the big animal take over. He flew over the poles, clearing with a foot to spare, then landed softly in the dirt footing.

_1, 2…_ Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Bradin moving across the yard.

"Look out!"

But the warning came too late. As the Thoroughbred sprung up, Harley's center of gravity was thrown backward, unseating her. She reached for the pommel of the saddle, but missed as the horse's weight shifted forward, throwing her onto his sweaty neck. A sharp spasm of pain shot through Harley's left side, and she instinctively tensed. Feeling herself sliding off the saddle, she feebly made an attempt to stay on. Time slowed as she fell toward the ground, though she was crashing through the jump in a moment.

Harley lay still, fighting the darkness that threatened to overtake her. The fog passed, but she struggled to fill her lungs, gaping like a fish out of water. Shaw appeared next to her, his aged fingers checking her arms and legs for fractures.

"Does anything hurt?" he asked worriedly.

Still struggling to breathe properly, Harley shook her head. It was a lie, but she knew nothing was broken anyway. She slowly sat up, her eyes searching for the horse. Finding her voice, she anxiously asked, "Where's Rouge?"

Shaw chuckled. As if in response to her inquiry, the big Thoroughbred stepped up from behind her and nuzzled her shoulder. Harley lifted herself from the ground and using the horse's strong shoulder as a support, she began to dust herself off.

"Try it again?" Shaw raised his eyebrows in question.

Harley could not force the words out of her mouth, so she simply nodded, turning to the horse and lifting her lower leg. Shaw boosted her up into the saddle quickly and easily, betraying his elderly outward appearance. Setting the jump standards back up, he set them a hole higher.

Squeezing the horse into a trot, Harley carefully tested herself. _Crap,_ she thought angrily as her left hip and knee protested loudly to her posting. Maybe she could suck it up for another go round. She had to; there was no choice in the matter. Inwardly groaning, she cued Rouge to canter.

_1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1,_ Harley mentally counted with the horse's stride as the big chestnut tackled the cavaletties.

"Good!" Shaw called to her.

"Good boy, Rouge." The horse's ears swished back as she said the words. "Come on, buddy, let's do this thing." Rouge snorted, then shortened his stride as Harley asked him to.

_Throw your heart over first…then jump after it._ The words floated through her head. Harley counted strides, shifting into two-point just before the horse gathered himself up. Giving the horse his space on the landing, she reined him in softly, once again counting her strides. _1, 2, hup!_

Rouge sailed over the second jump easily, landing almost daintily on the offside as if jumping the 4-foot 2-inch fence had been no effort whatsoever. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harley envisioned herself catching her heart and putting it back in place.

_Throw your heart over first…then jump after it._ Silly words from a corny Disney movie, perhaps, but a great help when in need of courage. Harley had to laugh at herself.

Slowing Rouge to a walk, then to a halt next to Shaw, Harley looked down at the white-haired gentleman and asked, "Was that okay?"

Shaw chuckled, patting her knee gently in a grandfatherly gesture. "Good enough for today, Harley. I'll get someone to cool him out." Shaw raised his hand to stop Harley's protest. "You go home and get some rest. That fall wasn't horrible, but it was quite unlike you to loose your focus."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Shaw, I've just had some other things on my mind and I—" her voice trailed off.

"Don't apologize," Shaw reassured her with a smile. "Everyone gets a little unfocused sometimes. Just be thankful it wasn't a worse fall and that you weren't in competition."

Harley half-smiled and nodded. "But really, Mr. Shaw, I'd just as soon take care of Rouge before I leave. It's no trouble, and I would rather know for myself that he's getting taken care of properly."

Shaw looked at her, seemingly unconvinced by her argument.

"Besides, I'm fine. Really, I am. You don't have to worry about me."

Sighing, he shook his head, a grin spreading across his wrinkled features. "I just can't win with you, can I? You'd fight to take care of the horse even if you'd broken two legs and couldn't stand up, but that's what I've always admired about you."

"You were the one who taught me that the horse comes first," Harley reminded him.

"Just make sure you get enough rest. I don't want you hurting yourself."

"I will."

With that, Shaw excused himself, leaving Harley and Rouge alone in the arena.

"Well, Rouge. That was exciting. But you're a good boy." She stroked the chestnut's sweaty neck. "How's about we go for a walk out down to the creek?"

Rouge's ears flicked up and he tensed to move forward. Harley laughed at him. "You know where we're goin', huh bud?"

Moving the horse over to the arena gate, Harley leaned down and unlatched it. She squeezed Rouge through, then closed it after him. Rouge walked along the narrow path without guidance, knowing where they were headed.

As the horse and rider maneuvered through the pasture gate, Harley allowed herself to relax. What had gone wrong before the fall? She'd never been that unfocused in all her years of riding. What was wrong with her? Ever since Bradin Westerly had shown up for a job, her life had been all mixed up. Every time she saw him, her stomach did a little flip-flop. Every night she thought of him, unsure of why her mind turned to the surfer boy she tried so hard to dislike. There it was again. Could she ever stop thinking about him?

Harley looked around her as Rouge planted his forefeet in the small stream with a splash. Following the meandering stream with her eyes, she spotted several brown horses grazing in the lush grass a few hundred yards away. Beyond the horses, white panel fencing criss-crossed like a mint candy stick, twisting and curving as far as the eye could see. An endless expanse of green stretched out in all directions, seeming to go on forever. A warm breeze stirred the grass, as if the ocean was exhaling its salty sea-breath from the other side of the hill. How peaceful it was—away from the noisy traffic of PCH and downtown Playa Linda.

The distant roar of a jetliner drowned out the gentle trickle of the stream, pulling her from her quiescent musings. Harley looked up, shading her eyes from the sun. She watched the silver belly of the airplane until it was out of sight before turning Rouge back toward the barn.

Reining the big Thoroughbred in at the barn door, Harley slowly eased herself off the saddle, doing her best to land with most of her weight on her right leg. She missed and for a moment her weight fell on her left leg. Letting out a gasp of pain, she reached for the horse to steady herself as her left hip went out. The horse looked around at her, nosing her arm as she stood leaning on his side.

"I'm fine, boy," she said. "I don't need you fussing over me, too."

But as much as she tried to convince everyone that she was fine, inwardly, she knew it was a lie.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Yes, the long-awaited next chapter is here. I apologize for taking so long, but I've been plagued with a horrible bout of writer's block lately. So, without further adieu, here is the next chapter. Big thanks to kandykane33, JMacNCheese, and Shelly for your reviews! They mean a lot! Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Summerland, nor do I own any related characters or places.

_Longing to Know_

Chapter 7

Entering the cool aisleway of the barn, Harley sighed. It was a quiet day at Meyer Stables, and she was thankful all the more of that fact as she limped slowly to Rouge's stall. She untacked him as efficiently as she could, given the fact that she had to hobble around. Grabbing a towel off the front of his stall, Harley dipped half of it in the water bucket and started rubbing the big horse down.

"Feel better now?" she asked Rouge when she was finished. The horse wiggled his nose on her cheek in response, and Harley allowed herself to laugh. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him close, setting her spirit free in the rich scent of his coat.

Memories of past summers spent with Hiding Wolf, her grandfather, welled up within her. As Thunder Horse Girl, she was one with the Humans, the nation of the People, her People. How she longed to be with Jack Strong Knife and Bending Willow, galloping their ponies across the North Dakota grasslands. But Hiding Wolf had long since embarked on the journey to reside with the elders and spirits, and her friends were no longer young and carefree children. Thunder Horse Girl was a mere childhood memory. She was Harley Trivette now, no matter how hard she wished she wasn't.

Releasing the embrace, she gave the animal a parting scratch on the withers. She limped out of the stall and gathered the tack in her arms. The distance to the tack room seemed like miles and when she reached the doorway, she sagged against the wall.

"Are you okay?" Bradin asked from behind her.

"I'm fine!" she snapped coldly, pushing away from the wall. Harley instantly regretted the harsh tone she had used when she caught a brief glimpse of the hurt plainly written on his face. He was only trying to be friendly after all.

"What happened to your face?"

Harley dipped her chin and stared at the ground, hoping to hide in the shadow of her riding helmet brim. "N-nothing."

"You've got a black eye," Bradin stated, worriedly reaching his hand out to lift her chin.

Brushing his hand aside, Harley looked at him defiantly. "I-I was…" –she hesitated momentarily, searching for words– "kick-boxing."

"No, you weren't."

Harley turned away and stepped into the tack room, busying herself with zipping the saddle into its cover bag.

"It was CJ, wasn't it." His words were more of a statement than a question. "He hit you."

"No," she lied, keeping her back toward him. The word came out stronger than she'd intended, but she hoped he hadn't noticed.

"You have to tell someone, Harley. It's not right for him to hurt you."

"Why should you care?"

"Because I want to help," Bradin gently touched her shoulder, but she moved away.

"You want to help me?" Harley asked angrily, turning to face him. "Leave me alone. Stop talking to me, stop hanging around me, just stop everything that has to do with me, okay?"

Bradin stared at her in silence.

"What?" she spat.

"Nothing." Bradin left her standing alone in the tack room.

Harley sniffed and stuck out her chin defiantly. Who was he to tell her what to do? She didn't need a nanny. Grabbing cowboy boots and a pair of jeans from her locker, Harley wearily made her way to the dressing room in the back of the office. After changing, she took one last look at herself in the full-length mirror that hung on the wall before gathering her breeches and black field boots under her arm. Her first step out of the office sent a sharp spasm of pain up her left side, and she collapsed onto the floor, fighting the fuzzy blackness that crept into the corners of her vision.

"You okay?"

Harley's head jerked up at the sound of his voice. "I just stepped crooked."

Offering her a hand, Bradin helped her up from the floor. He stood awkwardly for a moment before speaking hesitantly. "You wanna go get ice cream or something?"

"Well, um, I," Harley started nervously, then looked up at Bradin with a half smile. "Sure."

"You don't even have to walk, if you don't want to."

"I'll walk," she said with a slight laugh, heading toward the parking lot.

Bradin and Harley walked silently for a long while, simply enjoying the salty breeze kicked up by the ocean. The small, paved one-lane road twisted up the side of a hill and as the two teens reached the top, Playa Linda's busy Promenade sprawled out below.

Harley was the first to speak as they started the descent toward the town. "Any luck finding a car?"

"Not really."

Silence spread over them for the rest of the walk down to the Promenade. The late afternoon crowd bore down on them, sweeping them along in a sea of people. Five minutes later, they threaded their way to the edge of the current, stopping at the brightly colored overhanging above the ice cream stand.

"Two scoops blackberry, thanks," Harley told the blonde girl working the stand.

"Two, mint chocolate chip," Bradin ordered, then pulled out his wallet. Before he could set the money down, Harley had produced her share of the cost and set it on the counter.

Bradin opened his mouth to protest, but Harley shook her head, holding his gaze. He didn't push the subject, instead, handing his own money to the cashier. Ice cream in hand, they re-entered the stream of movement. Heading down toward the beach, Bradin led her to a small grouping of rocks. They climbed up and sat, watching the gulls swoop low on the rippling ocean as the sky produced a background of rich, accented oranges and pinks.

"So, you're from Kansas?" Harley broke the silence, unsure of what to say.

"Yeah, moved here at the beginning of the summer," Bradin replied. He took a breath as if to continue, but added nothing.

"Oh, that's cool. I'm actually from North Dakota." Harley allowed herself a relaxing breath.

"What brought you to Playa Linda?"

"My parents, well they're not exactly my parents, they adopted me after my m—" she stopped herself short. No, she wasn't going to bring her mother into this. "Um, after my grandpa passed away."

"Do you like it here?" Bradin asked.

Harley was relieved that he had changed the subject. "Yeah, I guess it's okay. Nothing like North Dakota, but that's obvious."

Bradin smiled and nodded agreement before they slipped back into a comfortable silence. Half of the sun still lingered above the water when Harley raised her wrist to look at her watch.

"We should go." Her words seemed to snap Bradin out of whatever thoughts he was lost in.

"Oh, yeah," he said distractedly, checking the time as well.

Standing up, Harley cringed at the pain that shot through her body from being inactive for so long. Her leg had cramped, but she knew it just needed to be walked out like earlier. She watched as Bradin slid off the rock first, and she didn't refuse when he put his hands on her waist to help her down. The two teens walked up the beach, picking their way through the scattered groups of evening patrons enjoying the last of the sunset. Harley followed closely as Bradin headed for the road to the stables, bypassing the Promenade for a more direct route.

They were nearly to the stable when Bradin stopped and spun Harley around to face him. "Why do you let CJ treat you like that?"

"What are you talking about?" Bradin's statement had caught her off guard.

"He hit you, I know it, so don't lie to me."

"How would you know?" she asked angrily.

"Because I followed you last night to make sure you got home okay."

Harley grit her teeth and exhaled sharply. Turning her back on Bradin, she started again toward the stable.

"I saw him force you into the car, Harley," he called after her. When she stopped, Bradin continued, "You got in the car, and he yelled at you and hit you."

Feeling a tear escape, Harley hurriedly wiped it away, wincing at the pain of touching her lightly discolored cheekbone.

"You can't let him treat you like that anymore," Bradin said softly, moving closer and reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder. "You're worth more than that."

"No, I'm not." She hung her head sadly, shrugging his hand off.

"You're worth more than that to me."

Harley allowed herself to look up at Bradin. His brow was wrinkled with concern as his eyes searched her face carefully. Something took hold of Harley, drawing her to Bradin, forcing her to need to touch him and feel the warmth of his skin.

"Bradin," she whispered, keeping her eyes locked on his. The overwhelming need to be held rushed through her like the burst of water from a reservoir, calming only when Bradin took her in his strong arms and held her close, kissing her passionately.

Breaking the kiss, Harley pulled away slightly to look up at him. She grabbed his hand and started off for the stable.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Long-awaited chapter 8, yes, I know. I apologize for not being able to write and post this sooner, but my life has been…well, let's just say hectic, for lack of a better word. I'm not sure I really know where this story is going. My mind has changed several times since the first draft of this chapter. I've pretty much cut out one of the major events in this story, but it just wasn't working. So we will have to suffer without it. Hopefully I will be graced with muses so I can continue to write on this story. I must warn you that I am trying to deal with an original work as well, so that will probably take a bit of time away from this adventure. Sorry it's short, but I wanted to get it finished and posted. So, without any further gilding of the lilies and with no more adieu, I give you…chapter 8…

Warning: High rating applies for this chapter...

Disclaimer: I do not own Summerland, nor do I own any related characters or places.

_Longing to Know_

Chapter 8

Entering the dim barn aisle, Bradin could feel Harley's warm body against his own as he backed her into the wall. Her chest rose and fell invitingly as she breathed deeply between kisses. Edging over, they fell together into the hay stall, and Bradin moved to straddle her hips. As he tilted his head to kiss her neck and collarbone, his hands moved down to pull out her slate-gray sleeveless shirt and he began to pop open the snaps one by one. His fingers caught on something and, glancing down momentarily, the flash of a small ruby stud piercing on her navel catching his eye. The thought of Callie flashed in his mind, but vanished almost as instantly as it had appeared when the last snap came apart, exposing Harley's beautifully rounded breasts, held by a silky black bra.

Bradin's attention turned upward as Harley moaned when his tongue found its way into her mouth. His hands caressed the soft skin of her curves, the sensation flooding his body with tingling adrenaline. As the kiss ended, Bradin slowly removed his lips from Harley's and ran them down her neck and chest. A moan of exquisite pleasure escaped her as he gently kissed the tops of her breasts. He stopped for a moment, looking up to Harley's dark eyes bearing passionately into his own.

Slipping her fingers into the belt loops of Bradin's jeans, Harley tugged downward, unbalancing him, and he fell on top of her. A new rush of adrenaline filled him as their bodies met. Taking charge of the moment, Harley rolled to be on top of him, and he felt her weight shift as their hips met. Harley's tongue slid beneath his ear and as her soft lips grazed his earlobe, he allowed a quiet sigh to escape. His breath coming more rapidly with each second, he could no longer withhold his sensuous desires. Bradin's hands came off of Harley as he moved them down to release the button of his jeans, but as he coaxed it apart and started for the zipper, she broke the kiss and pushed herself up.

"I'm sorry," Harley forced out, fighting to catch her breath. "I just—I just can't do it, I'm sorry."

Fumbling to button his jeans, Bradin tried to grasp the situation. Harley pushed onto her feet and moved away.

"I just can't do that." She shook her head distractedly, her breath coming in sporadic gulps. "It's against what my People believe." Her next words were too soft for him to hear.

"Your what?" Bradin asked, thoroughly confused. What was going on here? What was she talking about?

A harsh shiver ran through Harley's body as she sunk down onto the concrete floor. Bradin remained silent, staring at her glistening ebony eyes.

"I'm sorry," Harley sobbed, covering her mouth as the tears streamed down her face. She stood and walked down the aisleway hurriedly, holding her shirt together with her free hand.

Bradin's gaze followed her retreating form, his mind wrestling with the decision to stop her or let her go. He had seen the want in her eyes, the longing to know she was truly loved. She needed to know someone cared about her. Still uncertain of what he would do, Bradin started off in the direction Harley had disappeared in. Rounding a corner of the barn, he heard soft sobbing coming from one of the stalls.

"Harley, I'm sorry." Bradin said through the bars. "Look, I just…" his voice trailed off. What could he say? What was he supposed to say?

"Oh, just save it," she ground out harshly, stepping forward to look Bradin square in the face through the bars. "All you want is my body. You're no different from anyone else."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is. Why else would you start taking my clothes off?" Harley lifted her hand, palm up, level to the bottom of her ribcage as she motioned to her shirt.

Bradin's expression softened, and he took a moment before he responded. "I though it was what you wanted."

Harley's eyes grew wide. "I…I..."

"You what?" It was Bradin's turn for hostility. "Don't tell me that where you come from what happened there wasn't gonna lead to it." Tears glistened in Harley's eyes and he instantly regretted the tone he'd used. "Look, I'm sorry. I thought it was what you wanted."

"I did." The words escaped Harley's throat as barely more than a whisper.

Bradin frowned. What? Why? "Why did you stop then?"

Shaking her head, Harley turned back to the horse. She was silent for a long time before she cleared her throat to speak. "I'm not ready for sex. I wanted it, but I just can't."

"That's okay, I don't care, Harley," Bradin tried to soothe her, moving inside the stall.

"I can't dishonor my mom anymore." She buried her face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

Bradin stood silently, his arms wrapped tightly around Harley's shaking body. Flint reached his golden nose out to nuzzle Harley's back.

"I can't make any more mistakes," Harley said, pushing away and wiping her face. She sniffed once, then gazed up at Bradin. "So what do you think of me now?"

"What do you mean?" He frowned again, reaching out to pull her close, but she declined, stepping back instead.

"Now that you know I don't put out."

Bradin shook his head and smiled. "I still think you're worth it." Harley scoffed and started to turn toward the horse, but he lightly grasped her elbow and guided her back to face him. "I think you just need to know that you're cared about."

"And you're the one who's gonna show me?" she snapped, her eyes biting into Bradin's.

Pulling her close, Bradin lowered his lips gently onto hers. Harley tried to back away, but he had a hand on her neck, forcing her to stay.

"Bradin, let go," Harley forced out around the edges of the kiss. But Bradin kept his grip and kiss firm. Another moment of struggle was all it took before she melted into his touch, almost sagging in his arms. At last, Bradin released her, and she stumbled backward, surprise and shock written plainly in her wide ebony eyes.

"I think you're amazing," Bradin said, still looking deep into her eyes. He watched as a tear slipped down her cheek.

Harley ducked her head, shifting her weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "I…I don't know what to say."

Slipping a forefinger under her chin, Bradin lifted her head so their eyes met again. "You don't have to _say_ anything."

Another tear slipped out, but Bradin caught it with his thumb as it rolled over her high cheekbone. He was somewhat shocked to feel Harley's warm body against him, her tongue gently brushing his. Harley broke this kiss, reaching a hand up to thwart the escaping drops of saltwater. She laid the side of her head on his chest, crying quietly.

Long minutes passed before Bradin finally spoke. "I'll drive you home."

Harley didn't vocalize her answer, but he felt her nod her head against his chest.

"I'll stay with you for a little while."

She squeezed him tightly. "I'd like that," Harley mouthed, unable to find her voice as she looked up at him.

"Come on." Bradin cupped her jaw in his hands, wiping the tears away again. Then he smiled, offering his hand. She took it, attempting a smile in return.


	9. Chapter 9

**A**uthor's Note: Apologies for how long it took me to finally get this written. I've been mulling about with it for a long time, and I just finally figured it all out tonight. Loads of schoolwork and a bit of chronic writer's block didn't help either, but it's here now, so I hope y'all will enjoy it. **BIG** thanks to kandykane33, JmacKarla, beverleyd, and justthegirl07 for the comments!

**W**arning: Higher rating applies for this chapter...

**D**isclaimer: I do not own Summerland, nor do I own any related characters or places.

_Longing to Know_

Chapter 9

Bradin remembered the way to Harley's house from the night he had followed her home, but in the pitch dark, he hadn't seen the run-down state of the neighborhood. In the lingering light of dusk, he could just make out the stripping paint and general disrepair of the small houses. Much different from the beachfront condos he was used to seeing. Looking across the car, he noticed Harley had shifted to the far side of her seat, pressed up against the door as she stared out.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked.

Harley continued to stare out the window, but she said quietly, "Yeah, I'm fine."

Pulling into a driveway on the left side of the street, Bradin stopped the car, and the two teens got out. The little two-story house sat in the middle of a small plot of sun-browned grass. Light tan trimmed the eggshell white house, finished off by a weathered dark brown door. Harley produced a key from her jeans pocket, shoved it in the lock, and the door swung open.

The interior was homey, but clean and organized. One corner of the small living room hosted a television set, the next, a bubbling fish tank on the far side of a short flight of stairs. In the middle of the room was a maroon easy chair that matched the floral pattern on the off-white couch. Bookshelves towered along the wall across from the front windows. To the left of the shelves was a wide, open area that stretched back into a dining room with a round table and four straight-backed chairs, and to the right of the dining room was the kitchen.

"Can I get you a soda?" Harley asked over her shoulder as she walked through the dining room.

"Um, sure, thanks," Bradin answered, taking a seat on the couch. He heard tinny chimes and the slurch of the refrigerator door.

"We only have Ginger Ale," she said from the other room.

"That's fine."

Again the tinny chimes and the slurch of the refrigerator door. A shuffle of footsteps across the linoleum floor, and Harley returned to the living room. She handed the soda can to Bradin, then sat down next to him. The two cans were cracked open, then silence.

"Who's that?" Bradin asked after a few minutes, pointing to a picture on the lamp table on the far side of the couch.

"This?" Harley gently lifted the frame as Bradin nodded. She held it so both could see. "My grandfather, Hiding Wolf." She pointed to an elderly man in jeans and a buckskin shirt. His gray hair hung in two long braids, wrapped in dark brown fur. "That's me, and that girl was my best friend, Bending Willow, and that is my cousin, Jack Strong Knife. And those," –she pointed to a tall man with his arm around a short Asian-looking woman. "Are my…adopted parents."

"Earlier you said 'My People.' What did you mean?" he inquired, suddenly interested in Harley's heritage.

She stretched up proudly as she said, "I'm half Lakota Sioux."

"What's the other half?"

Harley ducked her head slightly as if she was embarrassed, staring down at the picture. "The only person who knows is…was my mother."

Bradin gently slipped his hand under hers, giving it what he hoped was a comforting squeeze.

She bit her lip nervously.

"Tell me about her?"

A long silent moment passed before Harley pulled her hand away and stood hurriedly. "You should probably go home now."

"Harley, please," Bradin said quietly, leaning forward to grasp her hand again.

"Don't," she protested, though allowed him to hold her hand. "Please don't."

"Why?"

"Because."

Bradin sighed. "That's not an answer." He guided her down onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her protectively. Harley tensed as if to rise, but sunk down into his embrace.

"My mom was raped," Harley blurted out. "That's why I can't sleep with you. I can't shame my family."

A frown creased Bradin's forehead. He didn't understand how that could've been shameful, and he voiced his thought.

Harley took a deep breath. "She worked so hard to rid my grandparents of shame. She gave up her guardianship of me and disappeared. I don't know what happened to her. Last I heard, she was arrested. My uncle's brother-in-law adopted me when Grandfather passed. He's part Oglala Sioux."

Bradin still didn't think he really understood, so he simply nodded, hoping she would continue. When she didn't, he sat silently for a few moments, his arms holding her close to his chest. Tilting her head closer, Bradin gently kissed her cheek.

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

"What?" Harley asked quickly, a red tinge creeping over her tanned features. She turned her head to face him, her brow creasing slightly.

"You're beautiful," Bradin said again. Before Harley could respond, he lifted a hand to her cheek, guiding her head forward. He kissed her, slowly, deliberately, making known all of his want and desire in the passionate collision of lips.

Bradin struggled to keep himself under control. One wrong move and he'd be back where he started. He had to keep her trust. What was it she had said about the horse? _Slow. Don't trap her. Touch her with your heart._ If he wanted her, he had to go slow.

The softness of her made every molecule of Bradin's body quake. In another moment, he knew he would lose all control. But he couldn't push her. It would ruin everything.

Pulled from his internal conflict, Bradin opened his eyes as Harley slid backwards off his lap. In her deep ebony eyes, he could see the longing of her soul. She wanted him—as much or more than he wanted her. Placing her hands lightly on his neck, Harley gently pulled him toward her.

He had been waiting for this. Lowering himself slowly atop her, Bradin tilted his head to catch her lips. As he did so, he felt a tremor run the course of her inviting curves.


	10. Chapter 10

**A**uthor's Note: This is a real shorty, but it had to be. But that's why you got two chapters this time! Hope you enjoy.

**Warning**: Higher rating applies in this chapter...

**D**isclaimer: I do not own _Summerland_, nor do I own any related characters or places.

_Longing to Know_

Chapter 10

The nearness of Bradin's warm body sent chills down Harley's spine. She knew she wanted him. Her body almost ached for him. Lost in the passion of his kiss, Harley found her hands grasping his shirt, twisting it as if it would relieve the overwhelming desire that racked her entire being.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you," Bradin breathed in her ear.

The words caused bile to rise in her throat. She'd heard those words before. Trying to block the thoughts from her head, she focused on Bradin's soft caress. He was nothing like CJ.

"Just relax."

What was he doing? Harley's brain screamed for him to stop. The desire that once engulfed her now replaced by a clenching twist of her gut. Those had been CJ's exact words, just before he had taken her innocence in that very same place.

_Stop!_ Harley's breath came in short gasps.

"Stop! Stop Bradin! Get off! Get off!" she screamed.

Bradin stopped instantly, pushing himself into a sitting position on the far side of the couch as Harley bolted from the cushions.

"What's wrong?" Bradin inquired hurriedly, scooting to the edge of the seat.

She could trust him, couldn't she? He _had_ stopped when she told him, hadn't he?

Harley took a deep breath. "CJ said that…just…just before…" her voice trailed off.

"You slept with him?"

The question sounded like a harsh accusation, and she flinched. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice would emit no answer.

"Did he rape you?" Bradin stood from the couch, stepping closer to Harley.

"No. Yes." She paused. "I…I don't know, it all happened so fast. I kept telling him to stop, but he just did it anyway."

Silence passed over them before Harley spoke again. "You should probably go."

Bradin nodded. "Are you gonna be okay here by yourself?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she tried to reassure him, though her voice quavered slightly.

"Call me if you need anything, okay?"

Harley attempted a smile. He seemed as though he did care. "I'll be fine."

"You're beautiful." Bradin gently lifted her chin and kissed her lips. "And don't let anyone tell you different."

Harley watched him turn away and walk out the door. She continued to watch out the window until the black SUV disappeared around the corner. Stepping up to the door, she reached out a trembling hand and slid home the deadbolt. After checking the rest of the doors and windows, she headed up the stairs and flopped down on her bed, falling asleep the instant she closed her eyes.


End file.
